


Homemade Love

by Lizlow



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 18:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17493275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizlow/pseuds/Lizlow
Summary: There she stands, looking over the ingredients, and he can see the relief settle in once she’s certain he’s there to lend her a hand (and whywouldn’the?). If she had attempted them herself then, and there’s no doubt about this, regardless of the form, or the taste, it’d still be one of thebest damn thingsto him.“Thanks for the food~”he’d say, and of course, he’d speak with the utmost level of respect, andlove. One could very well see the heart at the end of that sentence (and certainly, his pupilsmustshow it too).





	Homemade Love

**Author's Note:**

> for firionieI on twitter! Thank you again!

“Aww, c’mon, Sanji! Why are we only getting—“

“Not a complaint, and clean your plate.”

With his leg, Sanji shuts the door to the kitchen, whirling around to see his _adorable_ assistant baker. Thankfully, that (supposedly) takes care of any sort of lively, endearing, or outright distractions, ensuring that they aren’t buzzing around the room (while still being well-fed, since he absolutely couldn’t leave them quite so alone on that part). Now, it’s just him _and_ her, privately!

_Oh-ho_ , is his soul swelling!

“Uuu…”

There she stands, looking over the ingredients, and he can see the relief settle in once she’s certain he’s there to lend her a hand (and why _wouldn’t_ he?). If she had attempted them herself then, and there’s no doubt about this, regardless of the form, or the taste, it’d still be one of the _best damn things_ to him. “ _Thanks for the food, Luke~_ ” he’d say, and of course, he’d speak with the utmost level of respect, _and love_. One could very well see the heart at the end of that sentence (and certainly, his pupils _must_ show it too).

They are, now, as well.

Not a bite would be wasted, because it’d be made with affection!

_But_ , that’s not reality. Arguably, the current way is _even_ better, but he’s _certain_ he’d be glad with either outcome. This is, after all, Luke. The sweet, lovely, maiden who came to him at her time of distress, spilling the mission of her heart, and he’d be a damned fool not to oblige (as if he could’ve said no).

He _must_ be lucky. She’s so warm -- how irresistible that pout is, it brings such a skip to his beat, as though _he_ could do anything. Naturally, any gentleman would help a lady… wait, allow him a moment to rephrase that, for it a knight’s – a _prince’s_ – duty to aid his _princess_.

And, what better way to do so than a hands-on experience? The her that _loathes_ baking (and would rather watch him work, which is a comment he appreciates) should get a feel for how lovely things can be in the kitchen! He wraps his arms around her then, with care, serious, focused.

His hands go on top of her own, leading her through each of the steps, steadying her hands when they get shaky. Don’t they look like a couple right now? It’s _wonderful!_ Such a simple task, prepping cookies, but it’s perfect bonding time, so close the symphonies play the tune of their spirits.

Once he guides her enough, he lifts his hands back, despite not wishing to let go. These precious hands are so soft, delicate, truly, they might crumble if – ah, but the _embrace!_ That shall not end just yet.

“Easy, right?” His eyes shine, watching as her cheeks flush the wider his grin grows.

“Yes!” Accompanying the brightness of her smile, sweet and golden and fluster, one that _melts_ his heart, is a nod, so the ingredients of this recipe of love are all in line. _Ah_ , this is how flavors are meant to _wed_. “Thanks for this.”

If she could turn around, he’d imagine she’d bury her face against his chest. At least, he’d hope so. Lending her a reliable refuge, in his arms, being someone that can provide her comfort and strength – he’ll be by her side in these trials, so she’s not alone! Worry not, Luke, Sanji’s here.

”Happy to tend to your whims, _mademoiselle_.”

“Y-You…”

The shapes are cut (adding hearts for good measure, and as a declaration of his own), and into the oven these cookies go!

Now, how are they to pass the time, mere minutes though it may be, awaiting the clean-slated product to be finished? Time is relative when it comes to his devotion, but… _ah_ , how about spending it just like the rest of their time here?

Yes, that sounds lovely, and it works just as well, since there’s not a peep of distress, just calm breaths, and a pulse fit for joy that’s beheld. His chin rests on her shoulder; what starts as a wave, ends up turning as vast as the ocean, and the timer sails faster with people dear nearby.

That is to say, the batch is done in no time, so Luke pulls on her cute cat mitts and pulls the tray out, and it’s time to let them cool and then give them a new, colorful coat. These decorations that cover the cookies end up being well-chosen by their own subconscious affections, each little line highlighting what this _place_ has come to mean. (See? No smiles left out on the seas!) What better subjects than the very people that surround them? Than part of the reason they met?

Naturally, as soon as cookies in their own likeness are all nice and dressed, he carefully moves them to their own plate, the heart-shaped cookies placed around them to emphasize _everything_ even more.

It’s upon another look at her face, when she turns just slightly, that he realizes she’s gotten a bit of frosting near her mouth.

“Luke,” he speaks.

“Nh?!”

“It appears you have a little...”

Okay, now he can’t resist. Any seriousness he could have had fades away as bubbling affection fills the atmosphere. Even ones on the other side of the door are sure to feel it (and press it aside in their own ways, but he’s not counting, or minding). What should he do? What _can_ he do, other than kiss it off! Kiss it _better,_ flourishing.

“Kyaa?! Sanji!”

Closer, closer still, as one. Can you hear it? It’s the sound, the vibration, of such a fluffy affection with a mixture that’s stirred to perfection. Just like these cookies, born of hard-work and darling cooperation between a _sir_ and _lady_ this will prosper on, never to go stale.

Sanji smiles against her cheek, and anything else could weigh nothing in comparison to the meaning of this. Again, she’s so warm. Even if he’s gotten something on his face too – it’d mean they’d be _matching_ , and of course, he’d encourage her to give him the same course of this meal.

This bubble lasts until the door is opened, and – well, a family’s _a family_ , soon enough, their nosiness gets the best of them. His arms, begrudgingly, fall to his side, allowing Luke to step off to her own space. Sanji shrugs, at least he had a chance to home-bake this love with her, cherishing always—

“Hey! Watch whose head you’re about to bite off! No one said you could barge in here and take those!” 

Fire flares up, only to disperse again to hearts upon one stolen glance, so _– ahem_ , as he _was_ saying, he’ll always cherish these moments he can spend with his dear Luke!


End file.
